Walking down the sandy shores of Boracay is quite a treat: the powdery white sand, the picturesque scenery, the clear water, the bright sun, the coconut trees swaying in the wind and the unending, “SirMam, Parasailing?! Banana boat ride? Island hopping?”
There are two ways of dealing with these businessmen: You ignore them and pretend you’re foreign or explain to them, ‘Ayoko po / Tapos na po.’
I choose the former and Mitch would prefer the latter.
“Hon, don’t explain,” I told her, “Your friends don’t need it and your enemies won’t believe it.”